#because not everyone is going to know about this boundary

[ineffectualdemon]

Ok but some people can't trust their own judgement on how people feel. And assuming that they do have correct judgement creates a self fulfilling prophecy

I have CPTSD from a shitty childhood

I know I'm an unreliable narrator about how people perceive me in their lives a lot of the time. I don't like myself because of trauma and because I don't see myself as likable it's hard for me to believe that other people actually like me

But I have to accept the care they give and acknowledge it and accept that it's real even if I don't understand it. And I have to accept that if something hurts my feelings I can talk to them about it because I try very hard not to assume the worst from people. It's a huge struggle for me but has allowed me to maintain relationships and friendships

And yeah when I was young I had "friends" who were pretty shitty to me. I was also pretty shitty as a friend at that time. We were all still learning how to be people and that means recognising sometimes that our thoughts about other people's feelings are irrational.

Someone I know IRL who also has CPTSD assumes everyone is going to leave her and places unreasonable demands of "if you loved me you would do x" variety and takes any attempt from the other person to set boundaries as a personal attack. She asks for advice then gets mad at people for "telling her what to do". She calls people liars when they aren't lying, forgets the kindness they when sent, and ascribes the worst possible motivations for everything. And people get fed up being treated this way and do distance themselves and then she gets even more firmly convinced she's right and that all of her former friends were out to get her

She's a tar pit and so are you

[undercoveravenger]

Calm

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Male!Reader

Requested: No

Summary: Former barracks bunny Soap coming to terms with having feelings for you.

Warnings: Suggestive, but no actual smut

-----

Johnny MacTavish has always had too much energy for his own good. He’s always had a leg bouncing or fingers tapping or something to tear apart and put back together during briefings, always been running his mouth during transits, always bouncing from person to person because he’s just too much for one person to handle.

He’s had a handful of partners through the years that get close, but no one that’s been able to hold up against his stamina. It’s probably why he’d become something of a barracks bunny in the last few years, shacking up with anyone who catches his fancy for half a second in an effort to curb his libido but he just can't get the same enjoyment out of it that he used to. The enthusiasm of the rookies eager to get a taste of him or the punishing way someone from upper command bends him over just don't do it for him anymore. 

None of them bring that same satisfying ache that you do. 

It’s the sweet way you hold him during makes him feel like he's not just a problem. Not some chore to be tolerated and dealt with and then pushed to the back of your mind to be forgotten about. It makes him feel like he's whole for a little while, at least until he forces himself out of your bed to start gathering his clothes, stumbling his way back into his underwear and cargos on numb legs and wishing he'd hear you tell him to stay but knowing that he can't let himself.

He can’t turn around. Can’t bring himself to check if you’re watching him - hoping he’ll come back to bed. Or worse, what if you’d just rolled over and closed your eyes? Ready to wash your hands of him and let him leave the way he always does?

He pauses then, shirt in hands and pants unbuckled around his hips. You’re the one person who has ever treated him like this. The only one who never bustled him out as soon as the sex ended or pushed him to stay when he didn’t feel like it. The only one who actually wore him out enough that he didn’t feel like he needed to seek someone else out for another round before bed. You’d always been careful to check in with him. Always willing to at least hear him out if he asked to try something without pushing him if he said no to one of your own requests. Always asking if he needed anything from you after.

“Why?” The question escapes him unbidden and it takes him a moment to realize it even came from him. “Why,” he says again, eyes fixed on the way his knuckles go white from gripping his shirt so tightly, “don’t you ever ask me to stay?”

It’s clearly not something you’d expected him to say, not from how long the silence stretches between you. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” You’re looking at him, Soap notices when he turns to face you, whether you were or not before, you are now. Lying sprawled on your side, with one hand propping your head up, and your eyes are fixed on his and he’s not used to the intensity - not used to someone looking at him like that instead of with wandering eyes even when he is trying to be serious. “Everyone’s always talking about how you don’t stay. That you just want a bit of fun and then you go.” You shift onto your back and your breath escapes you in a huff and Johnny can feel his chest squeeze fondly at the sound. “Doubted you’d want me pushing your boundaries.”

He’s not sure what to say about that. That you hadn’t asked because you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. He’d known you were a pretty stand up guy - there was a reason you were the one sent in to deal with victims or newly recovered prisoners, something safe about you that even a stranger could see. 

“And,” he says slowly, forcing himself to continue despite the pit in his stomach, “What if I’d asked to?”

The smile that crosses your features brings an unconscious one to Johnny’s own lips, “Then I’d ask which side of the bed you prefer,” you said, simple and matter of fact. Like him staying wasn’t even something you’d have to think twice to be alright with. 

Johnny nodded slowly, butterflies racing in his stomach as he thought about his options. How he could leave and go back to his usual habits and pretend this never happened, or how he could see how this went with you. He steels himself, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than he ever has on an op as he drops his shirt and kicks his cargos back off, moving to settle beside you on the bed. “Left side’s fine,” he says, grinning as he tugged the sheets back up over the both of you and tucked himself tight against your chest. 

If it gets him more nights like this with you, Johnny thinks he could certainly get used to the calm.

[mothytheghost]

Dear everyone

To start I want to layout when all of this started. I was 19 at the time. I didn’t have maturity and understanding at the time and I was still learning the responsibilities of adulthood. Over time I learned communication and understanding how my words and actions had affected others and communicated without thinking about those I’ve talked to. During these times I’ve made comments. Jokes. And things i shouldn’t be saying around others. Not realizing the impact they could have. I wasn’t aware of anyone’s ages at the time. And at the time I wasn’t fully understanding boundaries and the communication everyone needed. And at the end I should’ve kept my words to myself. And acted more thoughtfully in the beginning.

Back in September. When I joined the server I was only there because I found it on peachy’s other blog. I was interested in joining. Too happy because I was too focused on seeing a friend than being fully aware of what others are doing. The server was kind and welcoming. I was too happy to talk to peachy at the time I was focused on chatting with her. But because I had social anxiety I never talked to anyone because i wasn’t sure about them. When those two girls. Who i didn’t know much about at the time said they had a server. I accepted it. Unknowingly their ages at the time and assumed they are eighteen as well. Looking back at this I wish I told them sooner. But because I was too happy meeting new people I didn’t listen to myself. And I didn’t listen to my intuitions. The more this kept going the more self aware I’ve became. And how my overthinking wasn’t just me over reacting. But my heart trying to warn me this wasn’t the right place to be with because I didn’t know them. They were close. We talk. But they were still strangers to me and I overlooked the situation. Yet I still kept doing what I wasn’t doing intentionally. Making me realize the more this went on the more people are hurting. And I wasn’t meaning to hurt anyone at the time. And I was selfish. I only thought about myself. Not seeing the red flags and because of my personality growing onto me I didn’t handle these situations like an adult and became selfish and childish. Causing me to push others away and only caring about the opinions I have. But I had no intentions of harming anyone. I never ment to hurt anyone. I was still young. I’m just now growing up and realizing the things I’ve done wrong in the past. Including using the sams-Venting blog to throw my frustrations out on them and how I was Ablest and selfish towards them. I wasn’t meaning to hurt anyone.I never thought on hurting anyone at the time. I just came there during the wrong time and should’ve got to know more about the community.

What I’m deeply sorry about is my friends I met not too much long ago. I made the situation lighter because of my anxiety and stress. I shouldn’t let my anxiety and my emotions get to me and treat everyone like how I treat my best friend and not leaving you in the dark. I just don’t like talking about this because I deeply regret everything that happened and I wished I can go back in time and fix my mistakes. I’m truly sorry to everyone involved. Including my friends and ex friends. I’m sorry for being selfish and rude. I’m sorry i took my anger out on everyone who is tryin. And I’m sorry for failing my trust to be a better friend to all of you.

-Moth

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I think William and Kate are real people and real people go through stuff and not everything is sunshine and roses, so I do agree that going through a big thing like cancer may have changed their relationship in ways we won’t even know. However, there can a be a hundred different reasons for small interactions and we can’t know for sure what they’re feeling in that moment.

For example, my friend who is casual with her interest in the royals saw that video of William and the kids waiting fot Kate and just thought it was funny and cute and didn’t think much about it. But I guess for us, maybe we know better or maybe we’re just more prone to overanalyzing their actions? Idk.

Anyway, as I said there can be a hundred different reasons. William may have been aware of how her “hurrying Kate” was perceived the last time (during the Jordan wedding) and wanted to avoid something similar. However, I think he used to have more gentle ways of reminding Kate to hurry before, so there’s that. But maybe it’s possible Kate has told him she doesn’t like being hurried no matter how he does it and he’s simply following her wishes.

Also, this is Kate’s first time to talk to the public since Christmas 2023, so maybe William had that in mind and didn’t want to be seen hurrying Kate in any way because he understood the public would want to talk to Kate. Maybe he also knew a lot of people would want to talk to Kate about her diagnosis, and William isn’t really the type to open up to the public during walkabouts about big personal things like that. He keeps it light: anecdotes about the kids or their dogs, Aston Villa, dad jokes. He probably didn’t want to be cornered and ambushed about a question about Kate’s illness that would make him vulnerable. Or maybe Kate wanted space to talk to the public about by herself. I also did notice that he was constantly looking for her or trying to see where she was during the walkabout.

I also think we can’t always interpret the change as William being callous as if William is the only one wearing the pants in the relationship and everything relies on the change in his feelings. In my own personal opinion and imagination, I think Kate has become more vocal about her boundaries. And if something has changed in their dynamic, I think it’s Kate wanting more individuality in the relationship. But idk this is just a feeling. I know I’m doing a lot of projection and I can’t be sure about my interpretations.

Anyway, maybe it could even be something as mundane as William having stomachache and needing to go to the bathroom and that’s why he was in a hurry lol. As I’ve said, there could be a hundred different reasons.

To be honest, I'd completely forgotten about the Jordanian wedding.

I was thinking about this moment from one of the garden parties.

(This is one of my favorite photos of them. I love how happy Kate is. I love the firm hand William has on her, like he knows if he lets her go she'll wander away again. I love how ladylike her trailing hand is posed. I love the soft feminine pink of Kate's suit contrasted with the sharp black of William's suit. I love everyone in the background cheesing at them. I love how Mary Poppinseqsue it feels.)

[lyricwritesprose]

As someone who is currently discovering My Adventures With Superman and frankly rolling around in it like catnip, I feel that having Lois catch on fast was absolutely right for the show.

First of all, this show just moves hella fast. For whatever reason. If you want slowburn, it's all cool, there's other media out there, but that doesn't happen to be what this one is doing.

Second of all, the plotline does excellent work at establishing who Lois is. In fact, the show is doing an excellent job of establishing who just about everyone is. Clark is just Good, sweet and kind in a way usually reserved for Disney princesses, but he is also too cautious and rule abiding and unwilling to rock the boat until Lois is involved. Lois is brilliant, driven, a bit emotionally damaged and about one thousand percent insane, but believing in Clark keeps her from becoming too ruthless. Jimmy has got to have cast iron self control, I mean, this is a guy who has endless curiosity about cryptids and yet managed somehow not to grab a video camera and interrogate his Obviously A Cryptid roommate—simply because Clark is his friend and he wanted to respect his boundaries, I mean, seriously, what an absolute mensch. Guy deserves to be the most famous Best Friend in American media. And even the minor characters, like, Perry . . . is clearly offscreen eating antacids like they were fucking M&Ms, and it is mostly the fault of the aforementioned trio. But back to Lois and Clark.

The thing is, there may be actually more potential for juicy emotional complications out of a Lois who knows than a Lois who doesn't. I mean, first of all, you have to figure out what you even mean to him, and how much he lied to you, and then you have to work out how to connect to an actual alien who is sitting in a psychological place where no human ever has before, like Maslow's hierarchy of needs probably doesn't even apply to him, and second of all he is absolutely Going Through Shit because he has enemies and no idea what the fuck is going on and his space ship speaks a different language. Yeah, love, that's good, that's nice���but it's not going to be enough. You have to have a lot of other things, like good communications skills and raw insane courage, and if you don't have them you're going to have to learn them fast because this television show, as mentioned before, is not even interested in trying a slow burn plot.

To be clear, I have just gotten into this media, but by this point I trust them to come up with emotional torque because, I don't know, despite (despite? Not sure that's quite the right word) the silliness and the occasional Excessive Amounts Of Anime I feel that they just understand the assignment. This show is about Being Good, about hope and friendship and love. And not necessarily in a schmaltzy care bear sort of way, but in a "we understand that this is stupid hard in a world like this and maybe we should do it anyway," way.

i 100% believe every single adaptation of superman should be judged for accuracy based on how well they understand just how completely unhinged lois lane is as a person. because if you think THE lois lane wouldn’t do [fill in the blank], you’re wrong. she absolutely would do that and she will not be apologizing for it. superman being in love with her only succeeded in making her more comfortable and willing to do insanely dangerous things than she already was. because yes, she will 100% launch her body off a skyscraper just to prove a point. and guess what, idiot? she was right, so it was completely worth it and she will be doing it again. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, lois lane is absolutely bat-shit crazy. clark just happens to be really REALLY into her particular brand of crazy. like there is nothing lois won’t do with the right motivation. she is an absolute force of nature and that should scare the shit out of you.

[thatbitchery]

If I can point to one single source and say yeah that's the reason I'm little miss happy and little miss successful etc. etc. it has to be that there is not a single part of me that I hate. None. I actually love all of me. All of me.

First of all, what is love? love is the act of acting in the best interest of. That it. Thats it. Thats what love is- acting in the best interest of. Self love is acting in the best interest of yourself and maybe someday we will get to that today it's this- there isn't one single thing about me I hate. Which is 100% what ha s shifted my motivation from coming from a place of shame to coming from a place of love ie coming from my desire to act in the best interest of EVERY SINGLE PART OF Me.

When I was younger I hated the part of me that has ADHD because girl just focus for five minutes it's not that hard? Hated the part of me that has all this melanin because when I get injured it's immediately dark spots and ugh. Hated the part of me that grew up in a culture so inherently misogynistic and still wanted it's acceptance and validation. Hated the part of me that was poor and broke and ugly. Hated the part of me that was- you get it- and funny thing is I was more motivated back then. Me right now can NOT hold a candle to me from 17 that girl would swallow us up and spit us out she was a Beast. I wil never again in my entire life be as motivated and driven and ambitious as I was as a teenager and 21-23 that girl man. That girl , even I'm scared of her. The work ethic. The boundaries. The mind games. That was the most go getter I have ever been and shout out to her I am everything I am because she made me- except she was coming from shame and self rejection. She could focus for longer than I can because she was angry at herself for not being able to focus and went to destructive lengths to make it happen. She is way more powerful than I am because she had everyone in the room honestly a little scared of her the Alison De Laurentis way because she is a master manipulator mind games player human nature exploiter blackmailer but it was because she did not think people would just- actually like her and want to help her. Azula AU. I will never again be that stylish that hot that sexy but thats because I'm comfortable in my skin now, she would trek all of Exter in Louboutin knowing her feet hurt because it made her feel- you get it. On paper she was better than me I will never again be that badass, but it came from the wrong place. She was trying to cover up parts of herself she found unlikeable. Me now on the other hand I'll come to your party in crocs my love I'm nottttttt doing all that. Me rn yes I'm a master manipulator I love that shit I'll do it for fun just because I can but I don't feel the need to. And if I do I'll do it because I love myself enough to destroy you for me. I love the part of me that can't focus for long and I will give her all the amusements she wants as long as it does not inconvenience the other parts of me. Snack? At 3am? Okay how does granola sound princess? Trip ? To Seychelles? no mama a part of us hates planes what if we just do the beach haha. I can drive us there nine hours i don't mind anything for you princess. I look in the mirror and think wait damn we look a lil ugly today? Well it's not exactly my duty to be pretty so. Lip gloss and chill? Works for you? bc we don't do chapped lips in this house yk. If i get a cut I just slap a band aid on it and hope the scarring happens faster I hate open wounds get it done. Skin does that it scars when it's injured so what. Moving on. Do I like my culture? Some parts. Do I crave it's acceptance? 100% Will I seek it? LMAO no hehe. Anyway. NO single part of me is experiencing shame from me, or anyone. Not internal not external. Whatever we want, princess.

I can not, in any human or angelic language, explain enough how happy this shit has made me.

[saintzweig]

art donaldson x mean girl!gf hcs :3

୨ৎ personality for the character (reader) is based off jade west from victorious!

୨ৎ if there were three things people remembered you by, it would be your rbf, your brutal (sometimes unnecessary) honesty and your boyfriend who is your complete opposite, art donaldson.

୨ৎ you and art dating came as a surprise to everyone, he was an angel while you were... you've had your moments.

୨ৎ they all came to accept it sooner or later, seeing as how the two of you balanced each other out. with art around, the chances of your outbursts were lower and with you around, art learned how to stop being such a pushover.

୨ৎ art loved your transparency and honesty, the way he doesn't have to walk on eggshells around you or decipher whatever is going on in your brain because you express so clearly the emotions you feel.

୨ৎ other people may have their thoughts on you, gossip about who you are and all that but he knows that they're all surface level, he knows you better than anyone so he knows it comes from a good place.

୨ৎ you're overprotective of him and your close friends, you don't like it when other people cross boundaries and make you (and him) uncomfortable.

୨ৎ he's pretty much the only person who's well equipped to deal with your moods, knowing when to pull you away when things become too much and you're starting to get irritable from overstimulation. he knows how to calm you down, help you ground yourself.

୨ৎ on the rare occasions you blow up on him, he tries not to take it to the heart. he knows it's more the situation than him, you were blowing up at him and not about. but it still doesn't change the fact that it hurt, so he goes quiet and leaves you alone.

୨ৎ you tell him to fuck off and he will, but just in the other room. he knows you'll come around soon enough and make up, so he doesn't approach you unless you make the first move.

୨ৎ usually you find him wrapped up on the couch, with a tray of meal on the coffee table waiting for you. even when you were so unfair to him, he still wants to take care of you.

୨ৎ "it's alright, darling. you were just stressed, i know you didn't mean it"

୨ৎ aside from that, he finds it hot when you're mean to other people. especially when you're jealous :3 which is often, considering art is pretty famous on campus.

୨ৎ this man would stand behind you while you go off on a girl that tried to kiss him, giggling and blushing while holding your hand.

୨ৎ he also likes it when you end up using your mean-ness for good lol, someone's yelling at the pregnant cashier lady at the grocery? you're giving them the same energy. a professor is trying to humiliate someone in front of the entire class? they can kiss their job goodbye.

୨ৎ you and art balance each other so well, when he's too shy or too much of a pushover to disagree with whatever, you push him to do it anyways and remind him to prioritize himself. when he's doubtful of himself especially in his tennis career, you tell him that a man with his talents is allowed to be a little arrogant.

୨ৎ he's so malewife energy and he's well aware of that, i swear his type in women are assertive and feisty ones.

[broidobe]

𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞 𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔩𝔦𝔭𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢

requested! this is a bit long lol

⁎⁺˳✧༚miscellaneous masterlist

being treated as "one of the guys," but with a fiercely protective undertone

none of them would let anyone disrespect you, even as they playfully tease you themselves.

everyone has their own way of looking out for you: 

corey being the one to check on your emotional state,

joey subtly making sure your equipment was perfect,

and clown stepping in if anyone crosses a line.

quickly developing a no-nonsense attitude to survive in the testosterone-fueled chaos

but the band loves that about you.

rocking your own unique mask that stood out yet matched the slipknot aesthetic—a balance between eerie and badass.

blowing people away during live shows, proving that you could match the raw energy and aggression of the band.

developing a signature move or stage quirk that fans would scream for, like spinning wildly during breakdowns or headbanging with the same ferocity as mick and jim.

occasionally pranking fans who underestimated you by taking off your mask for a moment mid-set and watching their jaws drop when they realized slipknot’s chaotic lineup included a woman.

bringing a unique perspective to the creative process

with everyone valuing your input because it added a new layer to their intense sound.

joey occasionally dragging you into the studio at 3 a.m. because he had an idea and trusted you to refine it with him.

contributing either vocally or instrumentally to the dark, experimental vibe of tracks, maybe even adding softer but haunting tones for contrast.

helping to patch up cuts and bruises after wild sets because your calm energy made you a natural caretaker, even when you were just as exhausted.

becoming a feminist icon for slipknot fans, showing that women could hold their own in extreme metal.

facing skepticism or dismissive comments from outsiders but using it to fuel your performances.

getting emotional seeing young girls in the crowd wearing masks inspired by yours or holding up signs that said you were their inspiration.

dynamics with each member cause..yeah there's a lot

corey: treating you like a sibling and having heartfelt talks when things got tough, always reminding you that you were irreplaceable in the band.

you’re the heart of this band, you know that, right? without you, we’d probably kill each other in a week.

people don’t get it—she’s not ‘good for a girl.’ she’s just good. period.

you ever need a break, just say the word. i’ve got your back, always.

joey: sharing a deep bond over music and creativity, with him always encouraging you to push boundaries.

that riff you came up with? insane. we’re using it. end of story.

don’t let anyone tell you we’re carrying you. you’re carrying us half the time.

c’mon, let’s jam—i’ve got this idea, but i need your touch to make it brutal.

clown: respecting your work ethic and intensity, often involving you in his elaborate stage antics.

you bring something none of us could ever replicate. don’t ever forget that.

i’ve got this insane idea for the stage show, but i need you to trust me. you in?

i know i’m crazy, but you’re just as nuts for sticking around. respect.

mick and jim: playfully competitive with you, especially when it came to who could headbang harder or nail riffs with more precision.

mick:

you shred better than half the guys i know. don’t let it go to your head.

if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, let me know. i’ll handle it.

stop showing me up on stage, damn it. you’re making me look bad.

jim:

you’ve got this knack for making everything sound heavier. what’s your secret?

hey, if mick’s too stubborn to admit it, i will—you’re killing it out there.

you ever think about how crazy it is that we’re doing this? and you’re better at it than any of us?

sid: being your mischievous partner-in-crime, whether it was pranking the others or sneaking off for an impromptu adventure.

let’s mess with the crowd tonight. i’ve got a plan, and it’s gonna be wild.

you’re like my partner in crime, except way cooler and less likely to get us arrested.

you think they’re ready for what we’re about to do? yeah, me neither. let’s do it anyway.

paul: acting like your big brother, always looking out for you and ensuring you felt part of the family.

you’re family, plain and simple. anyone says otherwise, they’re not paying attention.

you bring something real to the music. we’d be lost without you.

hey, you okay? i know this life can be a lot, but we’re all here for you.

craig: quietly offering support when you needed it, often in the form of small but thoughtful gestures.

(quietly hands you a pair of noise-canceling headphones before a loud rehearsal.)

you crushed it out there. (simple but meaningful after a particularly intense show.)

i programmed something in the track for you to play with. let me know if it works.

chris: sharing a similar sense of humor, leading to a lot of inside jokes between the two of you.

you realize you’re way too good for this circus, right? but don’t leave—we need you.

i don’t know how you deal with all of us idiots, but i’m glad you do.

if you can keep up with us, you can survive anything.

the band collectively gets into a heated debate over whether to watch a horror movie or a ridiculous comedy on the tour bus.

after twenty minutes of arguing, they finally settle on a random nature documentary about sloths, because sid begged everyone to let him watch it

halfway through, they all end up falling asleep, except sid, who’s GLUED to the screen

the band once finished an insane show, and someone suggested a "cool down" session by doing yoga.

the result is a hilarious disaster of tangled limbs and everyone trying to maintain balance in ridiculous poses.

by the end, there’s no "calm"—just a group of exhausted, laughing band members sprawled out on the floor.

during an especially intense set, the band LOVES to prank the audience by switching up the set list halfway through.

they randomly start playing covers of pop songs like backstreet boys or spice girls, and the crowd’s confusion turns into enthusiastic laughter as the band goes full on with their heavy versions of the tunes.

corey starts fake fights with the band on stage, pretending like they’re not in sync.

the whole crowd gets uncomfortable, but then the band bursts into laughter, revealing it was all staged.

afterward, the audience cheers louder, having been "in on the joke."

[moltenapian]

I think I ought to add to this. More beneath the cutoff, as is tradition

BDSM is definitely not for everyone. In fact, it's probably not for most people. Definitely not for most people. If you ever want to engage in that sort of thing safely, it's something you do with a trusted partner you *know* respects your boundaries, both in your bedroom and otherwise.

Just like engineering, something I'm well familiar with, safety culture is the most important thing by far. Doing your research, being aware of *all* the risks, and being properly prepared before any scene is essential. Never get even close to anything which could cause permanent or severe damage. A sore body the next day is fine, an infection or brain damage isn't.

Know what you're expecting from something like this, and know what your partner wants too. Talk about everything that you want to do during the scene, and don't ever, *ever* do something that wasn't agreed upon. Being on the same page in terms of expectations and goals is pretty essential.

One important thing is not to use BDSM or any other single coping mechanism as your only way to abate those feelings of wanting to self harm. First resort should always be something non destructive, but this can be occasionally be supplemented with something more intense, like BDSM, as a treat. Treating this kind of thing as a little reward instead of a main coping mechanism should work wonders to prevent spiraling, as I saw mentioned in some other comments.

And finally, safewords are final, no negotiations. I use the color system, and I recommend it. Trying to get someone to use their safeword should *never* be a goal. In a good scene, no one should have to safeword out.

Anyways, I'm going to make a comparison to engineering again, because I'm a very passionate aircraft test engineer for work who occasionally does some kinky stuff on the side and has a Brand to maintain smh.

Like a lot of engineering, hobbyist electronics, or anything else, BDSM and kink can be *very* dangerous. However, instead of electrons and mechanics, which follow predictable rules, this kind of thing always involves another person, making it even more precarious. Doesn't help that most people's ideas of kink are wildly dangerous and unhealthy, especially people who only know abt kink from porn (don't get me started on how dangerous and awful porn is for this kind of thing oh my goddddd).

But if you're doing it safely, with someone who has proven that you can trust them, it can be an incredibly worthwhile activity if you're the kind of person who would benefit from such a thing.

Anyways, I've yapped on this subject enough. It's late and I have some opinions on it yknow. So it goes

not me printing and framing this shit

[lynaferns]

I would like to set up boundaries regarding my AUs and designs.

Please, don't make sex/romance insinuation comments under my posts about my AUs or designs.

Like how you'd like to kiss them, like them to take you, how much you desire them. It makes me uncomfortable, I read all the tags and comments under my art posts, I don't feel any good reading that type of comments.

I'm not going to do anything about old posted art (as I've been quiet about this all this until now) but from now on I'm going to hide any of these types of comments and if someone keeps pushing it I'll have to block them.

I had this in a draft because I didn't have many of these kinds of comments but I've been told that I should post it to prevent it from happening and to let people know, which... it's logical...

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)

Hi guys. So. Crazy Story. The crisis that stopped me from working on my banner art actually catapulted me into writing this drabble finally! (Also the wonderful @ancha-aus was also a life-saver and helped me hammer out a few plot points for this installment <3)

Currently my only context for this drabble is that Error is tiny, and ran away from home because Geno moved to Reaper's kingdom to make money to send back home, and Fresh spent too long away on his trip. Error was expelled from his magic academy and came home to an empty house, so he left! Now he's been on the road for about a month? Nightmare has been ruling for about 6-ish years now, almost 7.

(Hello @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hi guys!!!)

     The town was bustling. 

   Error had been through a lot of towns since he’d left. Big ones, small ones, ones he was convinced weren’t even towns at all, just a few barns in a general closeness to one another who decided they needed to call themselves something besides the outskirts. Those people had been particularly hostile to his passing through.

   And, lately, they’d been really weird. People staring at him when he’d walk on the streets, or pass by shops. When they saw he had money from a different kingdom (he didn’t even realize he’d left his own, but he figured it meant he was on the right path) they’d squeeze their faces like they bit a lemon and hastily take his coin. Like it was cursed, or something. They were lucky it wasn’t cursed, honestly. He could probably figure out how to do that.

    This town, though, was filled so full with people that he imagined they couldn’t look at him weird if they wanted to. 

   People were riding horses, chatting in the streets, all sorts of stalls and merchants were peddling goods, and he was almost positive he could hear music lifting down the street over the general drone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run into a place so busy. He’d always been told to stick to the side, out of the way, out of danger. 

   He didn’t have to listen to that anymore. Though, he did skirt the crowds. The mass of people seemed all too willing to bump shoulders or elbows with each other in the early morning sun, and the last thing he wanted was to have his magic act up in a crowd. He’d done well so far. 

   Every booth, every merchant, every passerby seemed jubilant, ebbing and flowing. It was like some sort of party. 

   That was, until, Error spotted it.

   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely. 

   It was an amphitheatre. 

   Geno had taken him to see one once. Or, at least, the ruin of one. It hadn’t been too far from their home, and it was pretty abandoned and lonely. Plants had crawled up its walls, stones had fallen off in chunks, animals seemed to have deemed its high windows a perfect spot to build nests. It had been breathtaking, and ancient. 

   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use. 

   The walls were all in-tact, stones, an easy to look at grey, smooth and covered in little intricate carvings. Spells, he had to imagine, in some language he didn’t know. Curtains hung over the huge arched entrances, and heavy gates seemed to be lifted, the spikes at the base loomed over the heads of every passerby. 

   He couldn’t help but marvel. Was this a restoration, or maybe it was new. Some sort of imitation. Regardless, he found that his feet carried him to one of the entrances, which stood largely empty aside from some folks who looked strikingly like guards.

   Two of them stood, long spears in-hand. They both stood stock still as Error approached, and didn’t move a muscle as he passed them. They were strange, definitely different. Not at all the town guard he was familiar with. 

   The inside of the theatre was even more impressive. Rows and rows of stands seemed to line up either side. Huge tapestry hung from the high arches past those seats, and down the runways of the bleachers, all a bright teal and dark navy blue. They seemed fancy, and much newer than the curtains which had hung in the entrance. 

   Beyond the walkway where he stood, was a set of stairs which led down a level or so, before it leveled out into an open space. Sandy, and very flat. It seemed like there were people there, too. A much smaller crowd, but still a crowd nonetheless. 

   Error was almost amazed he’d not been stopped by someone yet. Whatever was going on seemed important, and so far in his experience, people did not like him sticking his nose into important business. 

   With that in mind, he decided he’d stick to the entryway for now. He leaned his bag up against the wall and watched from a position where the sun still shadowed his form. He was often grateful for his miscolored bones. It made hiding in the dark a whole lot easier. 

   It took a bit for him to really process what he was watching in the morning light. 

   There were four people sat on a sort of raised box toward the front of a stage. A huge stage, raised up off the sand with wood slats. They had a long-table before them, and quills and ink jars in-hand. Well, three were sitting. One was standing. But the point is, they were all watching the stage very attentively. 

   On-stage there was… basically nothing. Only a simple backdrop Error had to imagine was there at all times, because it looked like it was coated in sand, even from the distance where he stood.

   A person would enter the stage, the people sat on the box would speak to them, and then there was a flare of magic. Another. Another. And then they were dismissed. 

   It wasn’t until he really bothered to think about what magic was being cast that he realized those were extremely simple spells being used. Levitate, Create Water, Mimicry. Or Flame, Gust, Light. All just three easy spells, and then they were off-stage. That was taught magic. It gave him memories of his entrance exam to his school. He’d been way overqualified to get in, Geno taught him after all…

   But, no, this didn’t feel the same. There were plenty of people who seemed to stumble at spells they didn’t recognize, or who couldn’t muster a simple breeze. Then others who were very old and obviously skilled. Obviously they found the three spells to be child’s play. Like Error would. This was no entrance exam, so what-

   “Hey, pipsqueak, what are you doing there in the dark?” A voice startled him, and it took all of his willpower to avoid jumping away from its origin. 

   Error twisted rapidly, just in time to avoid the thrust of an elbow in his direction. 

   There was a monster there. Three, actually. Two lizards, both bright green and tropical, and one who looked more like a dragon. The green one closer to him must have spoken, because he laughed at Error’s flinch. 

   “Why are you bothering me?” Error shot back haughtily. 

   The lizard seemed to grin at the response.  

   “Oh, so we’ve got a feisty little small fry here? Thinks he’s scoping out the competition?” The dragonish one hissed, voice deep. 

   The other green one tittered a giggle, “So cute! I can’t believe the King really decided to let just anyone try out for Royal Mage.” 

   Oh…

   The lizard before him seemed to take this silence as a weakness, and reached out quicker than Error could react. A flick to the middle of his forehead. 

   Error winced and pulled away, back and into the arena. He grit his teeth and clutched his skull, where at the same moment the lizard jumped back and shook their hand in the air a bit. His magic had reacted poorly again, and while it was better than it used to be, it still stung like 5 wasps touching down and stinging the same point all at once. 

   “Little freak.” Was all the monster hissed, before he fled. His two friends moving on behind him in confusion. Approaching the line to the stage. 

   Error stood there in the sun for a moment, rubbing at his forehead until the pain was more of a numb static. 

   If anything, he appreciated the little run-in with those wanna-bes. Now he knew exactly what this was, and why it had felt so familiar to him. 

   The Mage Trials. 

   Geno had to go through them, and he’s been very thorough about his every single detail while doing it. Even though he was the best mage Error had ever known, he’d still stressed and wrote page after page of plans and spells and had placed them into a folder that felt thicker than an encyclopedia. Geno had always been the only one of them who bothered studying. Fresh couldn’t go to school anymore, and Error… Well, Error didn’t need to. 

   Thinking about it, Geno had been very quiet about it, but Error had looked into his folder a few times. Just out of curiosity. It’d been split into three rounds, something Geno had said was standardized. The first was a test of someone’s basic magic skills, the second were more complex spells which the mage has practice in, and the third, the one that had given Geno the most grief, was the personal spell round. In the last one, there were no restrictions to what someone could do, so long as they had done the work themselves, and that it mostly used magic. 

   If he was right, and he usually was, then this was the first round. Eliminating those with nothing but a hope and a prayer in their pocket before they got embarrassed before the one looking for the Mage in the first place. In this case, whoever this kingdom’s king even was. 

   In just a few moments, Error had decided. 

   This was how he’d prove himself. 

   The line was already starting to get longer, and he didn’t want to be here until nightfall in a queue. He dusted off his scarf, his shoes, his bag, and set off into the bright sun to secure his place in this contest. No prep. No warning. Just with his raw skill and what he’d learned so far. Nothing could possibly go wrong. 

.

   Finally. 

   Error felt like it had been hours in the warm sun before he was finally up next. 

   He’d been watching, of course. Watching as the people before him were passed or failed. It was just as he’d expected, and he couldn’t help but be a bit giddy as the two green lizard who’d bothered him earlier both failed. Though their dragonish friend had passed, it was still enough of a victory for him.

   Along with that, he noticed that the three people sat were all in robes of nobles. Something the wealthy and lofty would think to wear in a blazing hot arena all day. The one standing, though, was wearing all black. A hood was over his head, but Error thought he might be some sort of cat-monster. Very stone faced, very still. The only time Error had seen him move was seemingly to veto whatever choice the other three were making. He thought it was interesting. 

   That didn’t matter, though. 

   Based on what he’d seen, these people wouldn’t have any qualms with his magic. He was much better than half the people who’d already been passed, and knew he could keep him calm up on the stage. It’d be just like his entrance exam. 

   He watched as the monster who’d gone before him, a skeleton who was twice his height and twice as animal-ish, bowed gratefully to the people on the boxes, the evaluators, and exited. She’d passed fairly easily, Error thought. Though, her focus seemed elsewhere based on how shaky the hold on her last flame had been. 

   “Next!” 

   The call was shrill, and Error had heard it over a hundred times already today, but this time it bounced in his ears as he lifted himself up the steps and strode onstage. 

   If he’d thought about it, he would’ve tried to find a place to stache his bag, but it was too late for that, and frankly he didn’t trust it not to get stolen once it was out of his sight. Not with how busy the city seemed. 

   When he was stood in the center of the stage, he looked out across the way to the evaluators. They seemed closer up here than they did when he was on the ground. Interesting. 

   “First spell,” The person on the far left called, though Error could tell now that it was a voice projection spell. So they didn’t strain their vocal chords, “ Levitate.”

   That was simple. One of the first spells he’d been taught as a kid. 

   His eyes skimmed briefly, there had been a few props on stage that he only noticed once he was closer that were meant to be used with this sort of spell, but Error wasn’t for that. Instead, he muttered the words under his breath, outstretched a hand, and felt his magic reach out around him. Beyond the stage. 

   There… There was a barrier of some sorts, pushing back against his magic, between himself and the evaluators. He furrowed his brow and urged his magic forward. He didn’t have to break through it. He just. Had to- His magic felt like it was looping and wriggling like a worm through the dirt, but when it broke through on the other end, it felt so much more clear. He could feel a potent magic there, something raw and wet, like the air before a storm. 

   That didn’t matter, though. None of it did, because he was on a mission. His magic finally found its target, the stacks of ink bottles which the middle evaluator had just before their parchment. The magic latched on, and Error finally allowed himself a grin as he tugged his hand upwards. They floated calmly into the air, three of them, and did a quick spinning motion, before settling back down just where he’d found them.

   He didn’t catch the looks on the threes faces, but he had to imagine they were priceless. He was more focused on letting the spell dissipate and preparing for the next. 

   It took a moment, before, “Second Spell,” They said, “Create Water.” 

   Another easy one. 

   Error held his hand out again, though this time his palm faced the sky rather than the ground. At the mutter of his words, he could feel the water manifesting. Tiny droplets leaking from his fingers and into the air above his open palm, where he let it gather into a nice, easy sphere. 

   It hovered, and for this one he could see the nods from the three evaluators. The fourth, the cat monster, didn’t move an inch. A good sign. 

   Error, after a breath, moved the orb of water and simply set it on the stage floor. If he had to release it, he didn’t exactly want to get his clothes wet. That orb tended to shoot outwards when he released it, and the water would go everywhere. 

   “Third spell,” They must’ve been contented with his simply setting down the water, for they continued, “Flame.”

   Ah, one of his favorites. He was never very good at it, of course, but it was certainly very fun. If nothing else it’d be a taste of his raw power.

   He rolled up his hanging sleeves, quickly using strands of string to wrap them in place, before he picked back up the water orb in one hand. With the other, he faced his palm toward the side of it, and spoke the words for the flame spell. 

   The heat gathered in his wrist, and all at once shot out of his palm, like a cannon blast. The heat was intense, and Error laughed quietly to himself in pure elation as the fire did exactly what he was hoping. All at once, his glasses fogged, and a burst of steam blew past his face, off to the exiting side of the stage. He’d evaporated his orb, no longer needing to risk someone seeing him fumble with it and soak himself. 

   He let the fire die after a few second, and quickly grabbed the hem of his scarf to wipe down his glasses from the fog left behind on their surface. 

   The moment the red rims were back on the bridge of his nose, the voice spoke up again. 

   “Name?”

   Error cleared his throat, before calling back his name in response. Just the first one, the last one didn’t matter anymore. 

   There was another few breaths of quiet, before, 

   “Age?”

   Error hadn’t heard them ask anyone else for their age, but he figured they’d noticed. How strong and talented he was at such a young age. 

  He puffed up his chest when he announced, “Twelve!” to the arena. 

   There were a few muffled murmurs from the line, but Error was too busy grinning across the way at the evaluators as they seemed to talk amongst themselves. 

   He was ready to hear the word that would mark him to continue. The next part was tomorrow, after this round was concluded and the king arrived. He’d heard about it in the line while he was waiting. 

   One of the evaluators lifted their gaze back to him. Opened their mouth.

   “Disqualified.”

   That.

   Huh?

   Error must’ve visibly glitched at the response, because one of the evaluators seemed to flinch. Ever so slightly. 

   “How come?!” Error called back, reservations immediately fleeing his mind.

   How could they disqualify him? He hadn’t heard them do that to literally anyone else so far today. 

   The evaluator on the far right spoke up, “Too young. Now please move off the-”

   Error might’ve let his mouth speak before his mind, if he hadn’t seen the way the mysterious cat monster seemed to slink forward. A simple tap to the evaluator’s side and they stopped mid-sentence, attention drawing to the person. 

   He waited with balled fists. Hoping, against it all, that this person was using his mighty veto powers to get him his passing review. 

   “The Knight wishes to speak to you further.” They said, when the person, the Knight, took a step back. “Exit the stage.” 

   Mm. 

   This was his chance. This was his moment. He was being allowed to move on, he was sure of it. It had to be. 

   He practically scrambled off the stage and down the steps, and found that the Knight had closed the distance very quickly. He gestured silently for Error to follow him off to the side of the arena, seemingly outside of the voice spell’s range, as the noise of magic and calling for the next viewer seemed all muffled and contained. 

   Something Error noticed about the guy, now that he was right beside him walking along, was also that he wasn’t a cat monster. No, he had some sort of mask shaped like a cat. Black spots painted on black fur, with piercing white eyelights hidden in the darkness cast by his black hood. A cloth mask covered the lower half of his face, so Error would’ve had no idea what kind of monster he was, if he hadn’t left his hands uncovered. They were grey and grimy, but they were most certainly bones. 

   The other thing he noticed, was the magic. That damp, airy magic was no-doubt from this guy. It practically enveloped the both of them until they were stood in the shade of the wall separating bleachers from arena floor. 

   “You said you’re twelve?” He finally asked, shifting on his feet to look at Error. 

   The last thing he noticed, which only happened once he was able to look past the aura, was that. Well. He was a bit taller than this guy. Not by much, but there was certainly something stark about having to look a bit downwards to meet his eyelights. 

   “Yes, I am.” He claimed proudly, still convinced this was to be his ride to the top.

   The knight seemed to skim him with his eyes. Surely taking in Error’s clothes, his bag, his glasses, the weird bones. Though, it didn’t feel pervasive. 

   “Impressively strong for a kid,” He praised loosely, “And probably talented in spells if the nerds were any indication.” 

   His voice was quiet and raspy, but Error had no problem listening to it. This strong and very cool guy who was called a ‘knight’ was praising him. This was much better than getting yelled at by his professors. Much. 

   “Does that mean I passed?” He asked impatiently. 

   He needed this. He needed this. 

   The guy’s eyelights lingered on his face a bit, and it was then that Error finally noticed how virtually unreadable this guy was. Impossibly quiet, posture unmoving, all facial features shrouded in shadow and covered by masks?

   “I’m not sure what kingdom you’re from, but you’ve got to understand that the folks up there didn’t say no because you’re bad. They said no because the king made a new decree. “No soul under the age of 16 shall be put to work under the crown.” They’ve gotta take it seriously, just like everyone else has to follow the new rules about their own shops and businesses.” He said evenly, eyelights never leaving Error’s face. “You’re a couple years too early is all.” 

   It felt like he’d been shoved into a ditch, and he could already feel his right hand starting to tremble with the beginnings of a glitch. He was furious! How could they possibly say no to him because of some stupid rule about his age? 

   “No!” He exclaimed, trying to bite back the distortion on his voice, “I’m not going to just walk away. If I could just move on to the next round, they’d see I’m different! I’m not some weak little baby!” 

   He clenched his fists, driving his jittering one forcefully into his pocket. 

   The knight didn’t even flinch at his declaration. 

   “They’ve already seen that.” He said easily. “Listen to me. Error, right?” 

   Error hesitantly nodded. 

   “Error, ‘m sure that if my Lord saw you in action, he too would agree that you are very strong and resourceful.” The knight said, and Error hated that it sounded earnest. “But, he set that law into place for very good reason. If by any means those folks back there were to let you through, to pass you, and you made it before the king next round? They’d have committed treason, and I’d have their souls on the end of my bone in three seconds flat.” 

   His voice was hard and serious, and Error held strong as a loud crack echoed out beside the knight. A bone raised from the ground, sharp and jagged on the end, absolutely radiating magic. 

   “Do you really want their blood on your conscience, just so that you get sent away by the King anyways?” The knight offered. 

   Error hunched his shoulders a bit, and he felt his static worsen as he let his eyes linger on the bone. Yes. He muttered inside his head. He wanted to scream it at the man before him. Tell him that this was his one golden chance to prove himself. 

   But to who? He would ask, and Error wouldn’t be able to say it. It’d be a wasted sentiment and wasted time and wasted lives just for his temper tantrum. 

   “...No.” He bit out meekly. 

   He stood there, feeling a familiar shame creep up his spine. The knight made no move to leave, though he did let his bone disappear. The ground looked untouched from where it had split out of. Just more sand. Sand that was getting into Error’s bones. That he’d have to clean out later. Swinging in his hammock, lonely and moping. 

   “Heh,” The chuckle was almost inaudible, and Error was almost ready to let his distress turn back into rage, but, “Better kid than I was.” The Knight mused into the open air.

   He seemed to shift his stance again, and Error took a half step back. 

   “You’ve got your life ahead of you, kid. Don’t let this keep you down. Take the road less traveled by or whatever.” He said then, waving a hand loosely before him. 

   Error stared at him, trying to even his breath, before he had an idea. 

   “The other two rounds will be here, right?” He asked, voice still harshly stuttering and screeching. The Knight seemed unbothered.

   “Yeah. Planning on sticking around to watch?” The knight questioned, though it felt more like a warning. 

   Error nodded in agreement without hesitation. “If these geezers can get the job, I need to see what kind of tricks they have up their sleeves.” He agreed. 

   That earned another little chuckle, before the knight looked back to the stage. 

   Up in the center was a new mage, a human who seemed to be making a pretty wild wind that was whipping the sand around, bothering the people in line behind him. Error heard the knight make a scoffing noise, before turning back towards the stage.

   “Go hang around somewhere else for a while, why don’t you? I have to go make sure those nerds don’t pass that guy.” 

   Error didn’t even get to say a farewell before the Knight was off. 

   It seemed like every stride he teleported a bit further, building speed until he stopped cleanly up on the pedestal. Just in time for the sandstorm to die down. 

   Error didn’t want to walk away from this, he didn’t, but staying would only waste his time. It only took a few more seconds, to watch the knight nudge the evaluator and hear the muffled call of ‘fail’ ring out across the arena before he was turning tail and moving out of the sandy paradise, back into the bustle of the living city. 

.

.

.

   It was impossible to miss it. The sounds of celebration as the monarch entered the town. 

   Error could see the royal carriage from his perch, an old temple tower that had at some point lost its bell. It seemed untouched, birds nests and cobwebs, so he’d set up a hammock and a little makeshift shelter inside using his strings just before night fell. 

   He’d snatched some food from the town as dusk was setting in, and he’d been comfortably whittling away the dark hours, working hard on his plan. 

   With the King officially in town, that meant the second round would be starting up shortly, taking the numbers of who would be in the third round down by hundreds. He hoped the king was stingy about it. He hoped that dragonish monster would stumble on his spell and turn someone into a frog. 

   The thought humored him, and he cackled quietly to himself from his makeshift room. 

   The sun was high again, and he was only a part of the way through. His spells required a lot of his magic to be woven into them, and while it was much much faster than what he’d heard was the usual, it was still difficult to make. 

   Weaving the blue strings from his sockets, to his fingers, around his fingertips, and into the shapes he needed. It was monotonous, and boring by all accounts, but with every strand there was a new flow of power. A new pump of adrenaline into Error’s soul as he recognized his creation becoming more potent. Intent, intent, intent, every loop and knot was filled to the brim with it. His frustration sat at the core. Much more volatile and destructive than his usual intent, but it would serve him well if he wanted this plan to go well. Around it was his determination. The strings woven in with a sense of stubbornness which refused to let go, like a snake swallowing its prey whole. This would compress the first layer into a proper state. Let it coil and coil and coil until it burst. It’d be big, and loud, and send out that message he so desperately needed to be heard by the king. 

   Skipping the second round would probably hurt him in the long run, but… That knight had said he’d have to kill those people if he showed his face in round two. So, he’d just appear in round three instead, and make up for missing the second one. A final act, of sorts. 

   He’d have to be at this all day to make the time crunch. The orb was hardly as big as his palm, not nearly big enough. Though, he had wasted time making the shelter and finding food. He’d just have to skip a couple meals to make up for it. He didn’t really need to eat that much anyways, he’d known that for years. He just tried to make an effort when he smelled something tasty. 

   He knew he could manage. 

   It was late in the night when Error finally started on the outer layers. Those which would be filled with his patience, so that the potent insides would not be sensed as he moved with it among the many magic users. 

   The town had begun to line the streets with torches and party as the stars arrived. No doubt celebrating those who would be at the third and final round tomorrow. The ones who would be competing to become the new Royal Mage. 

   To Error? Every single moment down there was dedicated to him. They just didn’t know it yet. 

.

.

.

   The morning came, and Error only had a few more layers. 

   By the time the sun was almost in the center of the sky above, he had finished it, and carefully tucked it into his backpack. He unraveled the strings and carefully wrapped them, shaping them, changing them into a thin net with long ends. This was shoved into his jacket sleeve, the ends clutched tight in his hand. 

   It took him hardly any time at all to get to the arena, and he was early. 

   Good.

   He settled himself up in the stands, as close to the stage as he could get. Many people seemed to be staying outside the arena, sticking to the streets, but there was still enough of a crowd in the bleachers that Error had to be careful as he worked his way along the edges. He needed to be closer. Closer…

   There. 

   He stood at the railing behind the stage. 

   From here, he could see the line to the left, and he could see the people who had finished lingering on the other side. None of them spoke to each other, only standing about, icily, waiting for the rest to finish so they’d know which of them was chosen, and who was not. Error had to imagine that these folks were just as lame and boring as the seniors from his old academy. No fun at all. 

   He waited, so, so patiently, for the next few people. The last few. 

   Though he couldn’t see the spells themselves, he could certainly feel the pressure coming off of them. The control that they’d need to balance it. How much it might’ve drained their energy to do it just once. He was attuned to that sort of thing, he had to be. 

   His assessment was that all of these last few folks weren’t bad, but they were no match for Error’s raw talent. 

   Each spell cast seemed to tick away at Error’s patience, until it finally happened. The last mage went on-stage. It seemed there had been 15 of them. 

   He’d have to make 16, then. 

   It felt like a blur as he jumped the rails and let his strings carry him across the open space, much to the shock of the few who had been watching the competitors from around him. The blue lines snatched at the wooden supports of the stage, and he swung right over top, landing a bit messily in the center of the stage.

   He didn’t have time to look at everything. All he knew was the crowd was much larger than last time, that there was a shout of ‘Hey!’’ from somewhere to his left, and that the box across from the stage now held only three people. Monsters. One Error recognized, the knight in shadows who’d spoken to him. The other two he didn’t know, but he had to assume the one in the middle, tall and imposing, and dark, with an eyelight the same colors as the tapestries, was the King he was looking to impress. That was all he needed to know. 

   “M’lord, my name is Error!” He called out across the sand, and in one motion he shrugged the bag off his shoulders and used his strings to tug the orb out of its canvas body. “I want to prove that I’m more capable than any of the adults who just went before me! I could be your mage!” He would be the mage. 

   The orb sat cradled in Error’s hand for only the briefest moment, before it was inside the little net he’d made. He swung it in circles. Again. Again. Again. 

   He had to be fast. He had to do this quick.

   Error spent one last moment, extending his reach through his strings, muttering words and igniting an intangible spark. 

   For a brief moment, he watched as the King seemed to ease forward. A hand now raised, seemingly calling off his knights, who had been almost in motion. 

   He released the orb directly upwards, momentum carrying it up. 

   Up.

   Up.

   Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun. 

   Error watched it rise above him. 

   Only. 

   “Shit.” 

   His calculations must’ve been off. He must’ve added a layer too many, or maybe he released it a swing too soon. But he could tell that it wouldn’t clear the top of the arena. 

   Maybe if he had a few more seconds he could’ve used strings to boost it. He could’ve sent a magic gust to lift it further. 

   Not the case.

   He watched as the orb detonated, just like it was supposed to. 

   The wave moved horizontally through the air, and swept across the air above the arena so quickly that it sucked the sand from the top layer and threw it against the tall walls. Error’s footing slipped, and he stumbled to his knees on the stage as the wind whipped and tugged the heavy curtains into the air current as well. 

   It was an almost invisible force, Error had to imagine anyone without a solid grasp of magic would entirely miss it as it spread out. 

  He winced as it finally reached the edges of the arena, where he had just barely managed to fall short of clearing. 

   As the magic passed over the stone and mortar, he saw as it fell. Not in chunks, but crumbled like dust into fine particles. The upper half of every arch at the top of the grand amphitheatre, turned pitch black, then wasted away. 

   He hadn’t meant for it to come in contact with anything. It wasn’t supposed to do anything but harmlessly wave over everyone’s heads. As a show of his strength. That was all.

   Error could only think back to when this had happened before. When he’d accidentally exploded Geno’s favorite mug while metering the strength of his strings. When he’d broken the wheel of a carriage passing through the woods with a wayward slingshot blast. When he’d broken all ten of the large windows in the lecture hall of the academy when he failed to complete a spell the way it was written. When he’d done it too well.

   As he rose to his feet, he half expected the nagging voice of his older brother to be there, chastising him for not being more careful, before taking him home and making him dinner. 

   It wasn’t that, though. 

   He watched out across the sand. The king had his head tilted only slightly, looking up at Error’s lofty mistake. At the clean cut where stone now met unbothered air. His knight, the one in all black, was leaned ever so slightly towards him. They must’ve been speaking. Or, at least, the knight was. 

   About Error, he had no doubt. 

   He stayed in place, watching, swaying a bit with the residual force of his own spell lingering in his fingertips. Every instinct which told him to run and to hide were smothered and stamped out by the ligering fact that he had nowhere to go. Without his brothers, there was no one to help him. He knew it. 

   Even in front of this crowd. These mages. This King and his knights. He couldn’t bring himself to move offstage. Some part of him, deep down, childishly wanted the King to announce that he was impressed. To parade him offstage and let him experience what Geno had. Let him know why Geno left. 

   The King’s single eyelight swam back over to look at Error in the silence. 

   Error felt like the world had stopped. 

   It hadn’t.

   There was a clattering of armor and rustling of fabric, suddenly loud in his ears, and he had no time to react as everything came rushing in all at once. 

   Hands. Heavy, gloved hands. Two sets, two hands each wrapped one of his upper arms, and immediately lifted him off the ground. Into the air. 

   Pain flooded into his bones from his soul, like twin lightning strikes, trying to singe the bone and the magic in its core. The pressure wasn’t much, his mind knew that, but his body usually didn’t listen to him. He tried desperately to hold it in. The rampant part of his magic that had been hurting him since he could remember. That made it hard to touch anyone. To shake hands. To hug his brothers. 

   “Let go!” He pleaded, though he wasn’t sure if his voice made any sense. Fresh always told him they couldn’t tell what he was saying when his voice got too bad.

   More pain. He kicked his legs at the open air, and tried to muster control over his strings, just for a moment, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus. 

   And all at once it stopped. 

   Error’s feet were on the ground again, though that promptly became his knees again as he swayed and wavered in the sudden aftermath of his active magic dying down. Receding back into his soul. Because it didn’t need to ‘protect’ him anymore.

   He spotted then, as his vision returned to something aside from the gloves or the sky, that the King was no longer in his throne. In fact, there was a heavy, encompassing, magical weight behind him now. Somewhere very, very close-by.

   He took a deep breath, grounding himself. 

   “We are taking a recess.” Announced a booming voice. Very nearby. It was deep, and felt almost the same as the projection spell from two days prior. Then, more quietly, “You will leave the boy to me. Go ensure no one was injured, then manage the crowd. I’ll make my choice tomorrow at sunrise.” 

   The second bit felt quieter, an edge to the tone that Error didn’t quite like. Considering he must be the boy in question. 

   It was a moment, a few muddled ‘Yes, my king’ s, before Error found a pair of boots stepping before him. His head swam as he looked upwards. 

   The King, he figured that had to be him, was dark. Very dark. Like a living, dripping, shadow. Magic seemed to be all he was made of, an aura radiating from him. Dripping off his back into long slimy worms, twitching as they sat near the ground. He wore a fancy cape, too. One with huge gold clasps on his shoulders, one was shaped like the moon. 

   Error looked to his face last. In hindsight, something that could’ve been very, very bad. He was met with a dripping face. Skeletal. The place where his right socket should’ve sat was covered in that dark substance. The other hollow, with that bright cyan orb staring right back at him. 

   “Can you stand?” His voice came easily, and Error braced himself. 

   Could he?

   He had to, he didn’t want to be touched again. 

   Error took another breath, and managed to rise silently to his feet. 

   “Good,” the King said once he was standing, “Follow me.”

   It was an order he didn’t dare refuse. 

.

.

.

   Error found himself in an odd position. 

   He’d been given time to sit and recover from his magic’s outlash, and now he was sat in a room beneath the bleachers of the arena alongside the King and that knight he’d met before. The other one was guarding the door, he thought. 

   It’d been silent for a while, and it was almost expected when the silence was finally broken. 

   “You said your name is Error, correct?” The King asked, and Error gave a nod of yes. He forced himself to meet the King’s gaze.

   “Dust says that you’re only 12, and our people disqualified you in the first round. Is that right?” 

   Error nodded again. 

   “And Dust even explained to you why you were disqualified?” 

   Another nod. It seemed he’d at least made an impression on the knight. Dust. 

   The King tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, eyelight holding Error’s tightly. 

   “Then, I’ll ask, what brought you to think this was a good choice? To try and become Royal Mage above any cost it might bring?” The king asked, and Error was surprised to find it was a shockingly gentle tone. “Your home, your family, your life. You are so young, why put it all on the line like this?” 

   Oh. 

   It was almost funny. Was this whole thing because the king was some sort of charitycase? So disillusioned by his perfect life that he couldn’t even think of the hardships any random kid could go through? He almost grinned at that, barely keeping his mouth from twitching in a mix of frustration and humor.

   “I wanted to prove myself,” He muttered, “And besides, becoming the Royal Mage would be great.” 

   He waited, waited for the King to inhale, to say something, before, 

   “I’m an orphan.” He spat, finally. “Family abandoned me, house is left behind, expelled from school. I don’t want to keep wandering.” 

   It was basically the truth. This was his big break. His one last chance before he became a hated little vagabond. Maybe even a criminal. Maybe he’d have to go on the run for the rest of his life, live as a nomad. Join a caravan. Those people got stopped a lot though, kingdoms didn’t like them. He’d probably explode some city’s bakery by mistake and get put in jail for-

   “Wait!” Error suddenly exclaimed, breaking free of his thoughts, “Am I in trouble? Am I going to jail??” He asked then. 

   His worries slammed to a grinding halt and he stared wide-eyed at the two before him. Geno had always told him not to go making his big stuff near town, because if the guard caught him he wouldn’t be able to bail him out. He’d end up in jail. Of course, it’d never happened back then because he was always fast enough. Always smart enough to get out of dodge when he broke something or made poor decisions. Here? Here he hadn’t run when he had the chance. 

   The King stared at him, his one eyelight nearly mirroring Error’s in surprise at the question. 

   “I mean,” he started, “You’re young. If I wont let you work for me, I wouldn’t dare put you in prison either.” The King stated, “Though, you did do quite a bit of damage to the theatre.” 

   Error watched him break eye contact finally and look over his shoulder to the Knight stood there. He’d been silently watching Error too. 

   When he had no insight, The king seemed to heave a sigh, and the shadowy extra limbs which draped around him twitched. 

   “You’re sure you have no family? No home?” the King asked him again, and Error nodded.

   The king muttered something under his breath, and shot the Knight another look. The knight shrugged. 

   “I… Will not employ you. Though, I do see talent in you, Error.” the King said carefully, a bit slower in his words than he had been up until now. Almost… unsure. “I will, however, extend to you the title so that you may conduct…” He waved a hand before himself, as though searching for a word, “ You may conduct independent research. If you accept, of course.”

   “You would be free to resend your acceptance at any moment, no strings attached, and may take any work you complete along with you, and any pay you receive would be given to you after your 16th birthday, if you stay that long.” He added, “I’ll have to rewrite the contract, but-”

   “I accept!” 

   Error couldn’t help himself. He was so excited he could puke. The last thing he’d expected was to pull this off. This shitshow of a scheme actually got him the job? He could scream. He could jump up and down for joy. He didn’t, he sat eagerly and tense in his seat instead, but he could’ve. 

   The King seemed to hesitate, for a few breaths, before relaxing. He stood, and offered a hand out slowly to Error. 

   Error stood too, grinning. He could manage this one. He could do it. 

   It was brief, but he grasped the King’s hand and shook it firmly.

   “Dust, will you help Error locate his belongings, and escort him to wherever he is staying tonight? I’ll send Cross to swap with you a bit later. We’ll reconvene in the morning just before sunrise.” 

[edge-oftheworld]

I don’t really talk about it much on here because I’m extremely lucky to be able to understand exactly what’s going on in my body, but it’s scary to live for years as someone who Gets Things Done in a way your peers don’t really understand, be putting effort into so many things you care about, and then suddenly lose the ability to do not only that but also basic tasks overnight after a deadline, and bit by bit after many. it’s scary getting really irritable sometimes to the point of violence, just when you were meant to be celebrating the rewards from your hard work, the only impact of the work you did that you can see is that you overdrafted your ability to do anything. including have a basic conversation without getting grumpy or crying. and your body is going to make you pay it back with interest, you already know that, but you don’t know how to start filling yourself back up. you’ve only ever enjoyed being on the grind, hard at work on exciting things.

I don’t know how many of you have been through the kind of burnout that’s years of needing 12hrs of sleep a night but with terrible insomnia, waking up to what feels like a hangover for weeks on end with little relief then rinse and repeat without having a single drink, feeling too sick to eat and needing to exercise to emotionally regulate but being unable to, anxiety that doesn’t come from worry but you’ll pick that up too at some point, dissociating every time you try to do mentally taxing tasks that you’re PAID for so it takes an hour of grounding yourself just to get five minutes worth of productive concentration, falling asleep the minute you feel a little safe by being in the presence of loved ones. but I suspect I’m not the only one.

I’ve had songs for the energetic and angsty times leading up to this. for the exasperated times and the brain fog and the times where all my limited energy is tied up in feeling things. that I need to, need to acknowledge, but it’s overwhelming and I live in a haze for weeks as a result of. songs telling of the kind of youth I wish I had, even when I was sold something else. songs for the months spent as a teenager trying to be there for my friends, worrying for them, distracting me from worrying for myself, trying to cling on to positivity and hope amongst it when I had to choose to make a discipline of always seeing that. I’ve had songs for healing and when healing is harder than expected and songs that have the right level of musical complexity to capture the layers of everything that’s happening in my head, making it sound good, telling me it’s gonna be okay.

I don’t know how I could ever say thank you for this. but I do know that I see parts of myself in the people behind these songs, of course I do, and I worry for them as a result and ache for them because it’s hard enough to feel this way when no one knows me or feels the need to control me or mould me into what they think I should be. I’d do anything to keep them all healthy and happy and all of their loved ones too and I don’t think it’s strange as a fan to take that seriously. I hope we can understand the need to treat them gently, and to while not questioning their privacy and the fact that they’re never going to tell us everything they go through, listen to our intuition when we catch something we relate to and treat what they’ve shared with us or hinted at with the dignity we would if someone we love told us something vulnerable. be kind in our expectations and be intentional in the fan culture we create because it does make its way back to them.

and the same goes with all of you. we’re bonding over the same things. I know a lot of this fandom is in the stage where interpersonal relationships are hard. we don’t mean to be grumpy of frustrated but we are. and I’m sending love to all of you. we can get through this together. it’s what they’ve always longed for isn’t it?

[quillkiller]

having so many university au rosier twins thoughts

[alterousuggestion]

i am allowed to not want to give myself intimately in every single aspect to my platonic friends. i am allowed to want to reserve some intimacy for a different type of relationship. i am allowed to be picky about who receives my intimacy, despite being an aromantic who gives my all in friendships.

[jackass-jones]

Honestly though I think it’s really a bad sign when I look at Shin Tsukimi and literally feel like he’s a self insert 😩

[garpond]

i want to take a hiatus from talking and socializing so bad but im scared if i go any further with pulling away ill never want to come back. i know its irrational but i feel so confused lately that i sometimes genuinely think it would be better if i didnt interact with others in the world. i should probably get over it though and figure out what action to take because i really just need like. a hard reset, i am hearing my emotions about it loud and clear and i should really be responsible and address it before it gets to the point of no return and i just explode and harm people in the process